My ex (still not officially, if you can believe that shit) is trying to strong arm me into letting him off the title of the property. 

If he comes off, and I can’t assume the mortgage, the bank gets the house. The mortgage isn’t up until May 2014 – I’ve got 7 months to figure things out. 

Getting a mortgage isn’t possible for me. When Mike filed for bankruptcy some of his debt fell to me, and at the time, I was just scraping by with payments of things… it was awful. The company filed a lawsuit against me trying to get the money, which forced my hand, and pushed me to seek a debt counselor who sent me to a bankruptcy trustee. She told me I didn’t need to go straight to actual bankruptcy but could file a consumer proposal. Which I did. Now I am not eligible for a mortgage. Good fucking times. 

I love the childcare I have here. I really thought I would be here for some time. It’s strange. I had really been hoping my house would be my nest egg for the future. To help go towards my beach house… which feels a million miles away tonight. It could be a tent. 

With everything that’s gone down in the last month, I jokingly said to Mum, “Seriously, was I Hitler in another life?”, which made us both laugh. Because Hitler jokes never get old.